


Shaking

by Marz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Can be pre-Sterek, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mean Sheriff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marz/pseuds/Marz
Summary: From the prompt word: Shaking.Stiles stumbled to his bed, but didn’t quite make it before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. He stayed there, not quite sprawled out, but curled in on himself, arms crossed over his chest as he shook. He could do nothing but lay there, his father’s accusations all he could think about. He had finally done it, he had finally driven away the only person he had left. He had no one left, he was alone.





	Shaking

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make it known that I adore the Sheriff, and his and Stiles' love for one another is one of my favorite things about the show. The reason I find myself using him as the source of Stiles' pain more often than not is that of everyone in Stiles' life, he has the most power to hurt him.
> 
> This can be looked at as Derek/Stiles friendship, or pre-Sterek, it's up to you. :) 
> 
> Also, when I originally typed this up on Google Docs, the paragraphs with Stiles thinking about the past were in italics, but I don't know how to change that here. Any help would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> Final note! For the authors out there looking for Teen Wolf fic prompts, I have more than I know what to do with. I would love to post them somewhere for others looking for some ideas, but I can't seem to find an up-to-date page. Please, please, if you know of any site, be it Tumblr (I'm tenbadwolfrose), or livejournal, or something else, please let me know! Thanks!

Stiles didn’t come out of his daze until he heard the soft click of his bedroom door closing behind him. He blinked, realizing he had no memory of walking from the kitchen to his bedroom. The only thing he could focus on was the voice of his father echoing in his head from moments before.

“I don’t want to hear it, Stiles!” his father had shouted. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what to do with you.” The Sheriff had let out a harsh laugh, fully without humor. “Do you even hear half of what comes out of your mouth? I don’t think you even know what the truth is anymore! I haven’t been able to trust a single thing you’ve said in months. I am sick of putting up with your crap and I just don’t want to hear any more of it! I’m done, Stiles! I am done dealing with you!”

Not knowing what else to do in the face of his father’s rage, Stiles had just nodded, shouldered his backpack, and went up to his room.

He was brought back to the present once more by his backpack slipping off his shoulder. He tried to grab it on the way down, but realized he couldn’t because his hand was shaking too much to grasp the strap. All of a sudden he became aware that his entire body was shaking, his heart was racing, and tears were beginning to fall rapidly down his face.

Stiles stumbled to his bed, but didn’t quite make it before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. He stayed there, not quite sprawled out, but curled in on himself, arms crossed over his chest as he shook.

Stiles could do nothing but lay there, his father’s accusations all he could think about. He had finally done it, he had finally driven away the only person he had left. His mother was dead, Scott was so far immersed in Allison land that no one else existed, and his father had made it abundantly clear that he had reached the end of his threshold and no longer cared. He had no one left, he was alone.

At that thought, Stiles was unable to hold back a keen, the sound of desperate grief rising up out of his throat unbidden. With it came a new round of tears that would not be held back, no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut.

Lost in the torrent of emotions swirling like a tempest in his chest, he did not hear the window to his room slide open, nor the soft sound of feet hitting his carpet. He only became aware that he was not alone when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Looking up, he came face to face with the last person he expected to see, especially with such an open look of concern. He blinked at Derek, momentarily shocked out of his tears.

“W-what are you doing here?” Stiles managed to ask.

“Research question. It’s not important, it can wait. What happened?” Stiles watched as Derek’s eyes flicked in the direction he assumed his father was. “Your father--”

Stiles shook his head. “He’s okay. Though I’m pretty sure he no longer wants to be my father.” He tried to say it with a smile, but it immediately wobbled when his eyes filled with tears again.

Derek frowned in confusion. “What?”

Stiles took a shuddering breath that had Derek’s hand tightening from where it still sat on his shoulder. “I, uh, had to lie to him about where I was again. He didn’t take it well.” He looked up at the werewolf through wet lashes. “I’ve never seen him so mad, he’s never yelled at me like that before. H-he said he was done with me.” He felt the tears falling faster. “Derek, he’s all I have left. Scott is with Allison and my mom is dead. I don’t have anyone else!” With that, the sobs he had been forcing down broke free and he folded in on himself.

Immediately Stiles felt Derek surround him. He was vaguely aware of being picked up and gently deposited on his bed. What he didn’t expect was feeling Derek’s arms wrapping around him and holding him tightly. He felt himself being brought in against Derek’s chest, one of Derek’s arms going around his back, the other around his shoulders. After a moment he grasped Derek’s shirt with trembling hands and just held on.

“You’re not alone, Stiles,” Derek told him after a few moments. “Your father loves you, no matter what he said. He’s frustrated, and probably scared that you’re in trouble, but he loves you. And you have...me. I’m...here...if you need me.”

Later, when Stiles can string a coherent thought together, he’ll tease Derek about how painful that must have been to say, but for now it was just what he had needed to hear. 

He pulled back for a moment to look at Derek’s face. Seeing nothing but sincerity, however uncomfortable, he let out a relieved whimper he will later deny, and tucked his face back into Derek’s chest. He let the tears come and soak Derek’s shirt, and let Derek hold him until he stopped shaking.


End file.
